After recently checking out the funny-but-dark humored Bargin Bin Blasphemy Tumber page featuring some Christmas / Santa Claus album covers like the one left that have been adjusted with some simple sharpie and paint to make Santa look more like Satan (there's many other non-Santa ones but equally "blasphemous") I began thinking about instances when Santa is portrayed as the opposite of his usual kindly benevolent self. The first thing that came to my mind of course was the 2003 film Bad Santa starring Billy Bob Thornton, Tony Cox, Brett Kelly, Lauren Graham, and the two late greats Bernie Mac and John Ritter, which you can find at Amoeba in Blu-ray. This film, which people seem to either love or hate, has been released in two versions: the regular original version and the later unrated version. Yes if the original theatrical version didn't portray Santa behaving badly enough for some viewers the unrated version took the badness up a notch with even more cursing, nudity, and criminal activity. See clip below from original version - but be forewarned it has explicit language.

Next in terms of Santa going to the dark side I thought of those group Santa Claus bar/pub crawls where guys (and some women too) dressed up as Santa go out in a large group and get their collective swerve on - usually civilized but oft times getting stinking drunk and getting into fights. Then there's The Killers non-album track "Don't Shoot Me Santa" from five Christmases ago which the Las Vegas band recorded as a digital download-only track with all proceeds going to AIDScharities as part of the (PRODUCT)RED campaign. The entertaining video (above) and great song, delivered in the band's usual Springsteen-esque style, portrays Santa far from his normal North Pole residence but as a kidnapping killer deep in the desert who lives in a tore up old trailer. "Well the party's over kid cos I've got a bullet in my gun!," warns bad Santa (played by Ryan Pardey who has taken Brandon Flowers captive) and is about to kill the Killers main man. But fear not it has a happy ending when our kidnapped hero is rescued and the video ends with the note 'Merry Christmas from The Killers."

Santa, it would seem, heard my Christmas wish and brought me lots of rain. While not convenient to my compulsive walks to the grocery store for whatever culinary whims o’ertake me, I’ll trade easy access to the “Asian food aisle” for gloomy storm-clouds any old day. It’s not just the weather itself, it’s the music, movies, food and activities that I save for just such an occasion. What are they? I’m pretending you ask – Why, I’ll tell you!

Boner.

Let’s start with alcohol, as any good day does. This is the season for a cocktail staple of mine: hot toddies, of the whiskey variety. It’s so simple, I hesitate to say this is a recipe, any more than boiling spaghetti and dumping a jar of sauce on it is a “recipe,” but if I’ve learned anything about you earthlings, it’s that when cooking doesn’t come naturally, it doesn’t come at all. So here goes…

1.) Simply boil water. If you need instructions for this, stop now and don’t ever, ever step into a kitchen.

2.) While you wait for your water, squeeze the juice from one whole lemon, removing any seeds. Save the seeds and, in another blog, I’ll show you how you can use these dried lemon seeds to make the ugliest, stupidest necklace ever.

Happy St. Nicholas Day! For your enjoyment, a little somethin' to break the monotony of all that hardcore Christmas that has gotten to be a little bit out of control...

Santa Claus (1898) was directed by George Albert Smith (Weary Willie, Making Sausages), a former portrait photographer and member of the UK's Brighton set. In 1906, he and Charles Urban patented the world's first commercial color film process, Kinemacolor. Smith was something of an English Georges Méliès, employing and pioneering the use of special effects, mostly in the fantasy genre.

Scrooge; or Marley's Ghost (1901) was apparently the first adaptation of seemingly millions of Dickens's novel.

The Night Before Christmas (1905) was directed by the great Edwin S. Porter(Uncle Josh in a Spooky Hotel, Uncle Josh at the Moving Picture Show, The Gay Shoe Clerk) and is a pretty loose adaptation of the famous poem by Clement Moore. It will undoubtedly appeal to fans of dioramas and vintage children.

It’s only December 9, and already my body is exhausted from all the sugar and booze it’s ingested. I know, oh my readers, why Santa is a fat man. Santa, in fact, is probably suffering with diabetes. It would explain last year when, as he was trying to stuff the life-sized, life-like Annette Funicello robot I had asked for into my San Francisco 49ers stocking (a last-minute purchase at Target – it was either that or a Hannah Montana stocking that had a glue-gun scar); Santa was working his magic but, in-between “ho ho ho” he was mumbling about polyuria, polydipsia and polyphagia in a manner not so jolly.

That last sentence was epic. Somewhere, the ghost of Proust just got a boner. Can I say boner on the Amoeblog? I’m not well.

My boyfriend, Corey, and I just hosted our annual Christmas party. I was in charge of the food. I went for a “dip” theme. That is, rather than merely offer chips & salsa or chips & guacamole, our dips included: